Hunter's Need

by Shiloh Walker

  Cori appeared in the door but stopped as Duke started toward the phone. “I can get that . . . ” she offered, but her voice trailed off.

  Duke didn’t even hear her speak. For some reason, the damned ringing had him utterly fascinated. All the tension in his body spiked as he reached for the phone. Lifting it, he held it, and simply waited.

  “Ahhhh . . . hello?”

  He closed his eyes. At the sound of her voice, that caged, restless, edgy anger melted away, replaced by a narrow-minded focus that Duke recognized all too well. “Ana.”

  There was a long hesitation before she replied, “Duke?”

  “Why are you calling?”

  The sound of his voice, harsh and gruff, had the dual effects of making Ana flinch and forcing her to lock her knees just to keep from wilting. Duke . . . She closed her eyes and there it was, his image springing to life as though it had been painted on the inside of her eyelids.

  Duke—she hadn’t seen him, hadn’t spoken to him in more than a year.

  Taking a deep breath, she opened her eyes. It didn’t help. Her belly was hot and tight, her nerves scrambling. On the inside, she was a mess. But he didn’t need to know that—he wasn’t here. He couldn’t see how he affected her, couldn’t smell it. As long as she didn’t let it show in her voice, she was fine.

  She made herself look out the window of the bed-and-breakfast, out into the mountains. It was a beautiful view—beautiful, and a stark reminder of why she’d called Excelsior.

  If Ana could disconnect from the dark chaos rioting through her, she would have probably been struck silent just by the beauty. But she couldn’t disconnect and when she stared out the window at the mountains towering into the clear blue sky, she felt chilled to the bone.

  Something was wrong here.

  Very wrong.

  Damn it, just tell him that. Why did it matter that it was Duke that answered the phone and not Kelsey? Logically? It didn’t matter. But logic never had much to do with what happened to her when she heard his voice, when she thought of him, when she saw the sexy shapeshifter.

  She swallowed again, her mouth dry. “Is . . . ah . . . is Kelsey there? It’s kind of important.”

  “She’s not here. Why are you calling?”

  “Is her assistant Cori around?”

  “Why are you calling?” he said for the third time and this time, she heard an edge creeping into his voice.

  Ana pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed. You can’t back out now . . . you’re already involved and you can’t let this go until you do something—just tell him. She blew out a harsh breath. “There’s something wrong up here. I don’t know what it is and even if I did, I’m not exactly qualified to deal with it.”

  “Up here—you still in Alaska?”

  She frowned. How do you know that? But instead of asking, she said, “Yes.”

  “Going to have a problem getting much help up there. Especially in the summer. Vamps can’t handle the daylight. Most of the witches get their senses scrambled that far north and weres don’t like the poles.”

  “We don’t have much summer left.” Ana caught a lock of her hair. Without thinking, she started to twirl it. “Somebody needs to come up here, Duke.”

  He grunted. “You’re somebody. You’re up there. The poles won’t mess with psychic talent.”

  Her jaw dropped. “Uh . . . Duke, I’m not a Hunter. I just feel like something is off.”

  “Then deal with it, princess. Kelsey’s not here to help you figure it out. Hell, if it was that bad, somebody would already have felt the need to trot on up there and check things out.”

  The condescension in his voice cut, and it cut deep, but she could deal with it. He had every right to dislike her, every right not to want to talk with her, every right to avoid having anything to do with her.

  But she wasn’t going to let his problems keep her from getting help up here. Narrowing her eyes, she said, “Wow, isn’t that an admirable attitude for a Hunter to have?”

  “You know all about admirable traits, don’t you, princess?”

  Then he hung up the phone.

  Ana swallowed and lowered the handset, staring at it in dazed disbelief for a minute before hanging up. Deal with it.

  “I don’t know how to deal with it.”

  Reluctantly, she lifted her gaze and once more focused on the mountains, staring at their pristine, rugged beauty. Her throat was dry. Painfully dry. Rubbing the back of her hand over her mouth, she took one step toward the window, then another.

  It was a warm day, hovering in the mid-eighties outside but she felt chilled. Lifting a hand to the glass, she closed her eyes and rested her brow against the window. Deal with it.

  “I don’t know how,” she whispered.

  A chill raced down her spine. She cracked open one eye and stared at the book lying on the bed. Unsolved—Mysteries of the Far North.

  She couldn’t look at that cover now without seeing Marie’s face. Couldn’t lay her head down to sleep without hearing a scream.

  I don’t know how to deal with it . . .

  Straightening, she turned and picked up the book. Stared at the cover. “You’d better learn.”

  DUKE slammed the phone down and stalked out of Kelsey’s office. Disbelief burned inside him, side by side with denial. On some level, he knew what he had to do. Hell, some part of him had known this was coming all damn day. In an abstract sense, at least. This was what he’d been waiting for.

  Ana—

  Cori looked up from her desk. “Who was it?” she asked.

  “Somebody looking for Kelsey.”

  Cori’s lashes flickered. “I . . . ah . . . I heard you say Ana . . . did she say what she wanted?”

  “I’ll handle it,” he snapped.

  Her pale blue eyes narrowed. “Duke, that’s my job.”

  Cocking his head, he studied the slender vampire as she came out from behind her desk to stand beside it, her hands knotted in small fists. Her throat worked as she swallowed and he could scent the nervousness coming off of her.

  “I’ll take care of it,” he said again, trying to keep the edge out of his voice. He’d already been a fucking bastard to Ana. He didn’t need to repeat it.

  “Duke—”

  He ignored her. He could deliver the message to Kelsey just fine.

  Deliver the message and then get the hell out of dodge. Kelsey could handle this mess, figure out who to send out to Alaska, then Duke could just get the hell out of dodge and try once more to work on forgetting all about Analise Morell.

  CHAPTER 4

  “YOU’RE getting your ass on a plane, that’s what you’re doing. That’s the only thing you’re doing, so deal with it,” Kelsey said, storming into her office. She jerked the band from her ponytail as she settled behind her desk.

  “Now, if you don’t mind, the paperwork went and made like bunnies in the night, multiplying. I’ve got work to do, and you’ve got packing to do.” A pair of gold-framed glasses rested on the top of a stack of file folders. She gave them a look of acute dislike and then took the glasses and slipped them on. Then she combed her fingers through her red-gold curls and reached for the top file.

  Pack? Duke glared at her, unable to believe what she was telling him. Well, not true—he could believe it. He just didn’t want to.

  When she looked back at him, the irritation she felt was written all over her face, glinting in her eyes. “You’re still standing there, Duke. Get packed.”

  “I’m not getting on a plane.” Getting my ass on a plane? The hell I am.

  Kelsey narrowed her eyes. “You know, I get the feeling you thought that was a request. It wasn’t. It’s an order, Duke. Get packed, get to the airport. I’ll have a ticket waiting for you.”

  “Why in the hell am I going?” He already knew the answer, though. Because he had to. It had been pulling at him from the time he got out of bed, and now that he knew where he needed to be, it was like some fiery fist had a hold on his gut, dragging
him along while he stood with his heels planted in the dirt and fought back.

  “You’re going because you took the call,” she replied, her voice level. “And I’m not talking about the damn telephone . . . although, Duke, stay the hell out of my office.”

  Clenching his jaw, he glared at the witch. He was pissed, he was wrong, he was going to Alaska and he fucking hated all three. Worse, though, was the fact that he was going to have to see Ana.

  Shit. He didn’t want to see her, look into those soft purple eyes and let her tangle him up inside again. He was still trying to undo the knots from the night they’d first met and it had been years. Years since she’d played him for a fool and led him into a trap that could have killed him.

  At the same time, though, there was a huge part of him that was almost desperate to see her again.

  Frustrated rage twisted through him; bitter reluctance lay on the back of his tongue. Through clenched teeth, he said, “I don’t like this.”

  “Really? I hadn’t noticed.” Kelsey gave him a mockingly sympathetic smile. Then she shrugged and leaned back in her chair, staring at him over the desk and its neat stacks of file and paperwork. “I don’t much care if you like it or not, but it’s what you have to do . . . and you know it. I can feel it.”

  “You wouldn’t if you’d keep out of my thoughts,” he snapped.

  “I’m not in your thoughts—I do emotions, pal. Not thoughts, and you know it. And I don’t have to go reading anything to feel the urgency on you—you’re practically broadcasting. You might as well have a neon sign over your head that reads Hunter on Call—Stay Out of My Way.”

  Duke was silent.

  “Duke, you’re fighting the inevitable.” Kelsey sighed and slipped her glasses off. “Look, even aside from the obvious, you need to be on a plane. You’re one of the few that can do this.”

  He folded his arms over his chest and glared at the sword that hung over her desk. “Other Hunters can manage going that far north.”

  “In the winter, yeah, a vamp could handle it. But the poles are hell on witches . . . trust me, I know. I can handle it, but it’s not like I’m free to head north for a while. Not too many other witches free who could cope up there, I can guarantee that. I’ve been to Alaska and it’s like trying to focus on one grain of sand in the middle of a sandstorm. Weres have control issues that far north—something about the polarity, but I’m not a science-minded type and I don’t need to understand the technical details. Were and the poles just don’t mix.”

  Their gazes locked and Duke tried not to let the helpless anger show on his face.

  She knew though. Even if she didn’t see it on his face, she knew.

  “You’re a natural shifter, Duke. You might feel a little more on edge up there, but you can handle it.” With a smirk, she added, “I don’t think it’s Alaska that’s the problem, though.”

  Hell, yeah. She definitely knew. Flushing, he focused on his feet. Ana—

  A problem—damn straight. Ana was a fucking problem.

  Kelsey kicked her legs up, rested her booted feet on the desk. “Ana’s the problem,” she said quietly, echoing his thoughts with eerie precision.

  “I think you can handle it, but if you have doubts . . . ” She let her voice trail off and pursed her lips thoughtfully. “There are other shifters, I suppose. Or I could talk to the witches, see who is free and see if any of them have experience that far north. Some of the witches can function there, it just takes time, practice, some experience is nice. Hmmmm.”

  A sly smile curved her mouth. “I think Grady could handle it. He was born in northern Michigan. Yes, I think Grady could handle things just fine.”

  Grady—

  A mental image of the witch flashed through his mind. The black man was a nice guy and under normal circumstances, Duke would definitely agree that Grady could handle a few weeks in a place where his gift might become unpredictable. Especially if he’d grown up in a similar environment—he would be used to dealing with the poles.

  Fine, send him. The words burned on his tongue.

  “The hell he will,” he snarled.

  Kelsey gave him an innocent look. “Oh, I don’t know, Duke. He’s on friendly terms with Ana, too—”

  Duke growled.

  Kelsey laughed. “Well, unless you want me to send Grady, then you’d better get packing. You wasted enough time fighting this already, my friend.”

  WELL, there goes yet another day of complete and total failure, Ana thought. Dismally, she trudged up the steps that led to the private entrance of her room. The owners of the bed-and-breakfast were rarely about. She’d met them upon checking in, run into the husband briefly the past morning over a simple breakfast buffet of cereal, doughnuts and pastries.

  Other than that, she hadn’t seen them and she had to admit, she was glad. There was no way she could manage any kind of polite small talk just then. Not that small talk was her favorite way to spend time, anyway.

  So, what did you do today, Ms. Morell?

  Well, I went hiking on a few trails, tried to figure out just what in the hell is going on here. Tell me, have you noticed anything unusual going on? Like . . . oh, say . . . something downright evil, like murder, rape and torture?

  Smirking, she said, “Yeah, that’s certain to open some doors for you. Doors to the nearest mental institution.” She sighed and dug the key out of her pocket.

  She wanted a long, hot bath in the claw-footed bathtub. It was getting close to sunset and the bathtub was situated under a window that faced the west. Ana could sit and soak and watch the sun set, but it was a luxury she wasn’t going to take. She was running out of time. She’d spent the past two and a half days prowling around the Mat-Su Valley, looking for God only knows what, for God only knows who.

  Wasting her time.

  She didn’t have that much time left to waste, either. Tomorrow was Sunday and she had to check out of the B and B and head back to Anchorage. Monday, she had to be back at work. So instead of sinking into a tub of water to relax, she took a quick shower, brushed her teeth and then collapsed onto the bed.

  She fell asleep on the bed, too tired to even crawl under the covers.

  And she awoke cowering on the floor by the wall, holding herself and rocking.

  The coppery taste of fear lay heavy on her tongue and she swallowed back the bile boiling up in her throat.

  A girl’s face lingered in her mind, her lifeless, dark eyes staring upward, frozen in death. Her body had been naked, bruised by brutal hands, bite marks peppered over her breasts and thighs. Blood and semen stained her thighs.

  She was dead.

  But it wasn’t Marie.

  DUKE didn’t like flying.

  He hated it.

  It didn’t help that Kelsey and Cori hadn’t been able to find a nonstop flight from Virginia to Anchorage. He’d flown into Minneapolis late and spent a miserable night in a hotel while waiting for the 10:20 flight to Anchorage.

  Unable to sleep, he’d spent the entire night thinking about Ana. When morning came, he had been frustrated, exhausted and irritated beyond all belief. Anxious to get this over with, he hadn’t dreaded climbing on the plane until he actually settled down in the seat.

  Now an hour into the flight, he was wishing for solid ground, grass under his feet and silence. Someplace where he could run, run until he’d exhausted himself.

  The first-class section of the plane might boast wider seats and abundant leg room. It might include pleasant, attentive staff and a discerning menu. But none of that was going to do a damn thing to change the fact that he hated flying. Fuck, he was already on edge because of Ana. Spending the day on a plane was the last thing he needed.

  “Drink?”

  He tore his gaze away from the seat in front of him and focused on the flight attendant. She gave him a friendly smile, flirtatious and inviting. He glanced at the cart in front of her, and decided, no. Getting on a plane wasn’t the last thing he needed.

  Getting on a
plane and getting drunk was the last thing he needed.

  Despite knowing it wasn’t the wisest course of action, he debated on whether or not to get some whiskey. The burn of it might ease some of the tension inside him.

  It wouldn’t last, though. Shifters just burned through it too quick. Although he could spend the next eight hours getting drunk on the Council’s tab, anything that was going to screw with his control was something he had to avoid.

  He shook his head and focused once more on the back of the seat in front of him. Arms crossed over his chest, legs stretched out in front of him, he stared straight ahead. Straight ahead, because he didn’t want to risk catching sight of one of the windows. Damned planes. Too confining, too noisy—too fucking high in the air.

  “I don’t much like flying, either.”

  Duke didn’t bother glancing at the woman sitting next to him. If he did that, he might see the window. See out of it. See the ground way too far below.

  Not one to take a hint, the woman leaned in, pressing her breasts against his bicep as she laid a hand on his arm. From the corner of his eye, he could see her face and the mask of concern, but he could also smell her—smell her interest, not specifically in him, though. Just a fling.

  “The trick is to find something else to think about,” she said. “So you don’t worry. There’s nothing really to worry about, you know. Air travel is so much safer than car travel.”

  Safer . . . yeah, as long as they stayed in the air. He could survive a car wreck, but even a shifter wasn’t going to be able to make it if the plane suddenly went crashing down to earth.

  It didn’t really matter in his mind that it wasn’t a likely possibility.

  Didn’t matter that he’d flown hundreds of times and landed safely each time.

  He’d used to hope that serving in the army might help his problem with flying, but it hadn’t. The only thing frequent flying had done was just make damn sure he had to come face-to-face with his fear on a regular basis.